Behind the Veil
by Knucklehead McSpazatron
Summary: Sirius's experience behind the veil.


Title: Behind the Veil

Author: Knucklehead McSpazatron

Summary: Sirius's experience behind the veil.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and her affiliates. If I ever owned it, there would be a lot less of Harry being an idiot, and a lot more kick ass fight scenes.

Sirius stared at the space in front of him. Only seconds before, he'd been fighting his cousin. He'd taunted Bellatrix, playing on her explosive temper and hoping that all her time in Azkaban had made her even more prone to mistakes. She had sent some sort of spell at him, it had made his legs soft and jell-o like and it dulled his senses. Even now he was having trouble thinking.

The spell had pushed him backwards and…what? What had it done? Made him think he was in this room? Or possibly transported him to this room? But why would Lestrange do something like that? It didn't seem like her. Even as a child, Bellatrix always preferred the direct approach. Complicated plans, or really even ones that weren't instantly gratifying, were never her forte.

So perhaps this room was an accident. Yes, that made sense. Her spell had reacted with something he had done. But what? He hadn't tried to block it or anything, there wasn't time, and he hadn't taken any sort of potion. Unless you counted those nutrition things Pomphrey kept thrusting upon him, and he sure didn't. They were disgusting, but more importantly, they weren't supposed to react with any spells. Perhaps Bellatrix had made one up. Yes, that was believable. He had irritated Bellatrix too much and she had used some spell she made up.

Once again safe in his logic, Sirius returned his attention to the spot in front of him. It was the only truly black thing in the room, although he hadn't yet turned around to make sure, and it seemed to be fluttering slightly. He extended a hand towards, and then through it. Nothing happened. He stared at it some more. Still nothing.

Deciding it was just a figment of his imagination; he dismissed it and looked around the rest of the room. It was pretty plain; circular walls, a ceiling around 10 feet above the floor, everything made out of some sort of non-descript material, possibly sandstone, and everything some sort of shade of grey. That is, everything grey if you didn't count the black thing (non-existent black thing, he reminded himself), and a door that was surrounded by a golden light, as if whatever was behind it were light very brightly.

He turned towards this door, intending on walking up to, and then through, it, but something caught his attention. "SIRIUS!" That was his name of course but who was calling for him? He turned back towards the curtainish thing and stared at it some more. It had been a very familiar voice indeed, but who was it? "SIRIUS!" There it was again. Who…he knew it, the name was on the tip of his tongue. He cursed the spell; it appeared to have turned his brain into applesauce, or some other equally useless food, like spaghetti or possibly asparagus. Sirius shook his head. 'Focus.' He berated himself. "SIRIUS!" Harry!

The curse shattered and everything came back to him in a torrent of memories and feelings. Harry. Bellatrix. Remus. The veil. The prophecy. Voldemort. They all rushed over him so viciously that he stumbled and almost fell, everything of the past few years connecting in his head, and then more. His fractured memories of pre-Azkaban that had been all but stolen by the dementors now were whole and fresh and _right._ His sorting. James first prank with him. The marauders first prank war. His graduation. James and Lily's wedding. Harry's birth. Every happy moment he'd ever had.

It took Sirius a couple of minutes to be able to focus on the now rather than the then. When he could, he was frantic. He couldn't be dead, he wasn't dead. He simply refused to be dead. He just had to find a way out. He shot through the black thing (the veil, he registered dimly) but didn't show up in the ministry. He walked back through the other side. Nothing. For the next what felt like hours, Sirius tried anything and everything he could think of to try to get through the veil and back to his godson, but to no avail. Finally he plopped down onto the ground in front of the veil and glared at it. It remained unfazed. Damn veil.

Sirius tried to think logically. What was the veil exactly? It was a gateway between worlds, it had been given to the wizards by the elves, and much about it was still unknown, blah, blah, blah. He knew that when humans had first started populating the Earth, they had forced the elves off their land. The result was a long battle that the humans eventually won with the discovery of magic. The elves had then left, leaving behind only the veil, a parting gift so to speak, and their servants, the descendants of which became house elves. The Ministry of Magic had been built around the mysterious artifact and ever since people had been trying to puzzle it out. The elves had said only that a passageway, but this prize came after terrible sorrows, and not to take such a thing lightly. Sirius snorted. Fat lot of good that did him.

He glanced behind him at the "Doorway of Light" as he'd taken to calling it in his head. There was something about it that made him want to go through it. He thought about what the elves had said. A passageway. Surely that meant two ends right? And he really wanted to go through the other door, for reasons he couldn't quite explain. But, a passageway. Didn't that imply that you enter one way and leave to another? And he didn't want to go to some other place; he wanted to go back to where he left! What if the "Doorway of Light" led to some alternate universe where they were all death eaters or muggles? Or what if it put him back in his world, but as someone else, or in a different century? Worse, what if it led to another non-descript room with a veil he couldn't get through and a door he didn't want to get through, only in some other horrifying color that drove him absolutely up the wall? At least the grey was halfway tolerable, if a little creepy. It kind of made him feel as if he were in a horror movie. Thinking of horror movies made his skin crawl. He checked around the room as if to assure himself that there weren't any freaks with chainsaws or drowned ghosts about to attack him.

Sirius realized what he was doing and gave himself a mental shake. He needed to focus on the problem at hand, not non-existent horror movie villains. He examined the room again as if hoping something else would pop up and yell "Hey over here. Here's the way out. Come this way." The room was not so helpful. The closest thing was the "Doorway of Light" which seemed to be beckoning him. Sirius glanced back at the veil. All was silent on the other side. How was he to know that tons of time hadn't already passed over there, and he had already been forgotten? All he knew was that this waiting was killing him. He had never been very good at doing nothing. Ironic really, as that seemed to be the only thing he was doing lately.

He stood up and walked over to the door. Nothing changed. He didn't get an uneasy feeling, or feel sick to his stomach. There were no stabs of doubt or lingering dread. "What the hell." He said, and threw the door open. There was nothing but light behind. He stared. The he took a step forward. A whisper of a long forgotten voice met his ears, and he grinned and walked forward. The door swung firmly shut behind him.

"Mr. Prongs would like to welcome Mr. Padfoot home, and he would also like to say that Mr. Padfoot certainly took his time."

El Fin


End file.
